Saturday, February 6, 2016

Friday, February 5, 2016

Climb
the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as
sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you and
the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.John Muir

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Happy
Thursday and welcome to this weeks Sky Watch!!!I had to do some searching for photos taken at other times because, as I’ve
whined about day after day, it’s still GRAY and WET!!! Pouring rain this
morning!! I usually post Sky Watch the night before, and I was hoping maybe
there would be skies worth getting some good shots of, but there aren’t any of
those, so back to earlier days!! And I added some humor for the day!! That always helps -- even in bad weather!!

I
hope all of you have a wonderful day and a great weekend!!Stay warm and dry and ENJOY!!!

A
bank is a place where they lend you an umbrella in fair weather and ask for it
back when it begins to rain.
-- Robert Frost

Always and never are two words you should always remember
never to use.
-- Wendell Johnson

What Can I Say?

I'm interested in almost everything. Use to like to travel, but it's too expensive now. I take Tai Chi classes, swim, volunteer in a Jump-start program for pre-schoolers. I'm an avid reader and like nearly everyone these days I follow politics avidly. I'm a former teacher and Special Projects Coordinator for a Telecommunications company, Assistant to the President of a Japanese silicon wafer manufacturing company. Am now enjoying retirement -- most of the time. I have two daughters, one son-in-law and two sons scattered all over the country. No grandchildren.

Stop Hate Starting Here

I Never Saw Another Butterfly

So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellowPerhaps if the sun’s tears would singagainst a white stone....

Such, such a yellowIs carried lightly ’way up high.It went away I’m sure because it wished to kiss the world good-bye.

For seven weeks I’ve lived in herePenned up inside this ghetto.But I have found what I love here.The dandelions call to meAnd the white chestnut branches in the court.

Only I never saw another butterfly. That butterfly was the last one.Butterflies don’t live in here, in the ghetto.

Written by Pavel Friedman, June 4, 1942 Born in Prague on Jan. 7, 1921.Deported to the Terezin Concentration Camp on April 26, 1942. Died in Aushchwitzon Sept. 29, 1944.

Thank You, Anthony!!

Check out his blog and photos!

Chasing Ashes

I love to write and it has been a hobby for a long time. Mysteries were always my escape reading during some of the darker times of my life and I finally decided to give it a try. I've actually written seven over the years. Unfortunately, my last computer disaster resulted in my losing three of the latest four. I did manage to salvage this one.